Masters of War
by TheDoctorsCompanion13
Summary: Tired of the ongoing Time War, the Doctor reaches Gallifrey to finally end it and finds a very old friend he thought he'd never see again in the process. Sequel to my fic No Glory in War.


The TARDIS landed on Gallifrey again after months of running, pretending the war was a distant memory. However, it was a memory that the universe refused to let him forget. Everywhere he travelled was touched by the war in one way or another. Planets and those living upon them lay war torn, species starving, living in poverty and fear, waiting for the day the battling races would destroy them just as they had so many others. The Doctor quickly learned to keep his status as a Time Lord under wraps as the consequences ranged from shunning to attempted murder and he could hardly blame any of them for their actions against him.

He couldn't pinpoint the reason why he returned as he opened the TARDIS door to the interior of the once great Citadel. Maybe because he knew all roads ended there, a sense of duty, or perhaps a tired need to see it all end. Not much fighting remained on the planet, just as not many Time Lords or Daleks remained. The fighting spread like a disease, infecting planets, leaving them barren and burning. The Doctor looked up toward the suns in the sky through the gaping hole in the protective globe that once encased the Citadel, using a hand to shade his eyes from the harsh light. He felt their heat burn into his exposed flesh, a pair of eyes casting down judgment upon him.

He forced himself to look away and shut the TARDIS door behind him before walking through the abandoned streets. After a quick scan of the broken buildings, he found a reason for being there, a purpose that drove him to the only building of importance, the tallest one at the very center. No guards remained as he approached, walking unchallenged through the wide open doors to the thoroughly trashed lobby. Glass, wood, and papers were strewn across the once glossy floors. Each step he took, careful as he was, sounded like an earthquake in the still, unnerving silence.

He stepped around the debris with grace, making his way to the cells where the prisoners of war would've been kept. A twinge of surprise arose in him when he saw that the prison doors had also been left open. Without hesitation, he walked into the spacious, metal-lined room, the walls to his right and left comprised of cell after cell, each one empty. The Doctor crossed the room to a door on the other side and threw it open.

The second room appeared larger, though more cramped as the small cells were packed together tightly and stacked on top of each other about three stories high. The place looked dingy, left to rot in the wake of the war, though, unlike the last room, not all of the cells were empty. He scanned them, ones confined by invisible power fields, looking for the reason he returned to the prison.

Many unknown faces glared out at him, teeth grinding in frustration, eyes wide and hungry for freedom. The Doctor did his best to avoid meeting their gazes, tried not to see their pain, but found it difficult. He wondered how many of them truly deserved to be stuck there until the end of days, how many made a minor mistake that incurred Rassilon's wrath, and when he would find who he was looking for when a whisper caught his attention.

"Doctor!" a voice hissed.

He spun on his heel, searching for the source, and found her to his left a few feet away, stacked on the second row. At the single whisper, a wave of commotion rippled through the cells, each prisoner speaking his name and all the connotations that it carried. It reached the Doctor's ears at a low rumble, rising slowly to a dull roar of excitement. He approached the grime-covered woman as he tried to block out the noise.

"Romana?"

She crawled up close to the invisible barrier, the cell barely tall enough for her to stand. Her face was covered in dirt and her hair hung down limply in clumps. "Doctor, what are you doing back here?"

"It's time for the war to end, Romana. I came here to let you go, to save you as you did me, before I carry out my task."

She frowned. "What task is that?"

"It's best you don't know," he said with a grim smile.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. After a quick scan of the barrier, he started to dissolve it, breaking down its structure until the space was unblocked. He held out his hand to Romana, who reached out hesitantly, as if fearing she might feel the volts of the barrier still. The Doctor closed the distance in her hesitance and held her hand to show there was nothing to fear. He helped her down from the cramped space. Only when she was steady on her feet did he let go.

"You should go. Find an abandoned TARDIS if you can and run as far away as possible," he said, avoiding looking her in the eye.

"What are you planning?" she said, resting a hand on his arm as worry lined her face.

He grabbed her shoulders and walked her to the exit of the prison. "Don't ask questions, Romana. This is me repaying my debts. Now go before it's too late."

She looked back at him only once and nodded, short and solemn, before heading out to the Citadel streets. The Doctor glanced back at all of the thin, hopeless faces, all calling his name, begging for help, and grimaced like he'd been stabbed in one of his hearts. He moved to turn away and follow Romana out when one voice stuck out to him from the rest. A familiar, sorrowful tone said by an unfamiliar voice, spoken in a way that he couldn't fail to recognize.

"Doctor?" it said. "Is it really you?"

The Doctor looked back, mouth agape, eyes frantically searching. "Master?" he said breathlessly.

Deep down, he knew he should've left, abandoning him at the prison, but instead his feet moved forward. He drifted toward the voice at the end of the room until he noticed a set of older looking cells, ones with Time Lord crafted metal bars instead of a powered barrier, insuring those within them would remain in there even in a rare case of power failure. He approached carefully, moving until the bottom cell stood entirely in his field of vision and he could finally see the man within.

Short, blonde hair, dark stubble, clad in black Earth apparel. Completely unrecognizable but, as he looked up at him with guarded dark brown eyes, he knew it was unmistakably the Master. The Doctor stole a reflexive step back at the sight of him. The Master smiled, dark and humorless.

"What's the matter, Doctor? Seen a ghost? I know I have." He looked the Doctor over as he stepped closer to the bars. "I haven't seen this regeneration of yours in many years. Not since you threw me into the Eye of Harmony."

"I tried to save you," he said, his words barely a whisper.

"BUT YOU DIDN'T," he roared, his voice echoing, silencing the prisoners around them.

"I'M SORRY," the Doctor said, matching his volume. "I never wanted you to come to harm, unlike your intentions toward me. Speaking of intentions, why are you here? You've already said you're from my future. That's reason enough for me to leave you here."

"Don't!" he said, the plea bursting from his lips, hand reaching through the bars toward him, just shy of being able to touch the green fabric of his coat. "You can't leave me here."

"I can," the Doctor hissed. "Very easily. Tell me why I shouldn't."

"I know what you're here to do, Doctor. I know the future," the Master said, grabbing the bars, pressing his forehead against them. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME TO DIE. I SACRIFICED MYSELF FOR YOU."

The Doctor stepped forward, staring into the Master's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Look inside my head. I can show you," he growled, pressing himself up against the bars as an offering to him.

The Doctor reached out, hesitant, with an expression of unsurity. When his hands reached the bars, he paused, considering drawing back, but the Master grabbed his wrists and placed his hands at his temples. Resolved to the task, the Doctor placed his fingertips on the proper spots around the Master's temples and concentrated on entering his mind. He was met with no resistance, the Master wanting him to see what he needed to. Once he was in, flashes of memories bombarded him as the Master guided him to the right ones. He saw a future version of himself, one that was as lean as a flagpole with spikey brown hair and a striped suit. He saw Earth under the Master's rule.

Finally, the memories slowed and stopped, showing him a room in what appeared to be a mansion. Through the Master's eyes he saw his future self as well as Rassilon and a few other Time Lords. He could tell there was an argument occurring between himself and Rassilon as he pointed a gun at the Gallifreyan president. His future self turned toward the Master with the gun and told him to move, shooting the machinery behind him. Rassilon, angered by this, moved to kill him, the future Doctor, and the Master moved forward, his instinct drawing him to protect. He threw pure life energy at Rassilon, moving toward him in order to keep him back, until they all disappeared. The next thing the Master saw was the High Council Chamber as Dalek ships shot at the Citadel above them.

After that, a wall appeared, blocking the Doctor from the Master's thoughts and ejecting him from his mind. The Doctor let go and staggered back a half step, regaining his bearings on the present. He stared at the Master as if he were a different person, not the one he'd known to cause chaos wherever he set foot, but the one he once knew so very long ago.

"Master," he said softly, a honey sweet thread of hope in his tone.

"Doctor," he growled, voice heavy with need.

He reached out and grabbed the lapel of the Doctor's coat and pulled him in, using his other hand to grab a handful of brown curls at the nape of his neck once he was close enough. The Doctor pressed his hands to the Master's waist and jawline, drawing him as close as possible just as their lips met in the heated moment.

With each kiss, each slight slip of a tongue that sent electricity and fire through the Doctor's veins, he was reminded of Gallifrey. He thought of their very first kiss, hidden in the tall fields of red grass on one of the Master's family's estates while his parents were in their home, none the wiser. They had laid side-by-side, staring up at the skies, when the Master kissed his cheek. Always the boldest of the pair, the Doctor thought as the Master in the present moment pressed his lips to the Doctor's neck in just the right spot to draw an involuntary gasp from him. Back then, when the Doctor didn't reject the advance, the Master kissed him again, on the lips, and they shared the warmth of young love.

They kissed once more, the Master biting his bottom lip as he tried to draw away, reluctantly letting go eventually. The Doctor could taste a bead of blood when he stepped back, both of them left only a little breathless. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic, using it on the prison bars until they heard a click.

The Master threw open the door, forcing the Doctor to stumble back out of the way of the swinging metal. He grabbed the Doctor by his shoulders and threw him back until he hit another set of bars, pain flaring in his back from the impact. In the next moment, the Master cornered him in, one hand tugging on the blue scarf around his neck, using it to pull his head down as if it were a leash.

When their lips met again, the Doctor's mind fogged, forgetting all the reasons he set foot back on Gallifrey, all the purpose he once had. The heat of contact, the removal of the layers between them, that became his new purpose as he grabbed the hem of the Master's black hoodie and pulled it up over his head, discarding it on the floor.

With skillful hands, the Master removed the Doctor's jacket and untucked his button-down shirt, his fingertips trailing along the flesh of his back and side along the ribs. He still held onto the scarf, using it to pull the Doctor's head to the side as he kissed and bit the skin along his collarbone as the Doctor bit his lip to keep from moaning.

At the back of his mind, he knew he should stop as much as he didn't want to. More than anything he wanted to lose himself in the Master, to be able to forget what he needed to do, but morality had always been his strength and possibly his weakness. He grabbed the Master's arm and pulled it out from under his shirt, carefully pushing him away until they were an arm's length apart.

"We can't do this. Not now," the Doctor said, looking thoroughly disheveled.

"Why not?" the Master asked as he fixed his red t-shirt.

"I need to see this war to its end. I…" he trailed off, glancing down at his jacket before picking it up and pulling it back on. "If I don't, no one will. Follow me if you like. Leave if you don't."

He avoided looking at the Master as he stuffed his sonic screwdriver back into his pocket and walked out of the room. At first, he heard no one behind him, but after a few minutes a rush of footsteps grew closer until they evened out pace just at his back. He marched back up to the lobby and walked straight toward the hexagonal metal door that led down to the High Council Chamber. Deadlocked, he could tell.

"Allow me," the Master said, stepping up to the Doctor's side.

The Doctor watched as the Master rubbed his hands together, building up a charge, before shooting a stream of life energy at the door. Just as he had seen in the Master's memory. The door hissed as the deadlock failed, forcing the door open. The Master stopped using his power and fell to one knee, appearing pale and exhausted, skin sheen with sweat.

"What happened to you?"

"I died and was brought back wrong, thanks to one of your beloved humans. Last time I trust one of them," he replied spitefully. "This body is dying. I don't know how long I have."

The Doctor frowned, examining him as he pushed himself to his feet and shook away the weakness he clearly felt. He looked to the Doctor and the Doctor glanced away, walking over to the door and shoving it open. They marched down the stairs, not caring about alerting anyone to their presence. Once at the bottom, they both forced open the Chamber door and walked in to find the High Council, all seated around their table. They glanced up, fear on their faces, as the two of them moved inside and shut the door behind them.

Rassilon stood, outrage written on his face as he looked from the Doctor to the Master. "Lord Doctor, what is the meaning of this?"

"Well, President Rassilon," the Doctor said as he walked away from the door toward a control center at the back of the room, "I'm here to send out a distress signal. It seems that the High Council is in danger and needs all remaining Time Lords to return."

"Whatever it is you're planning, Doctor, I won't allow it!" Rassilon moved to go after him, to stop him, but the Master was blocking his path before he could take more than a few steps. The Master reached out and slammed a hand into Rassilon's chest, energy crackling around his fingers.

The Doctor glanced back for a moment before returning to the controls. "Are you distressed yet, Rassilon?"

"What are you doing? You'll draw the Daleks right back to us!" Rassilon shouted as the Master pushed him back into his chair.

"That _is _that plan," the Doctor replied casually just as he beamed out the signal, reaching every TARDIS in the universe.

"Is that it, Doctor?" the Master said as he kept his hands out, audibly crackling with energy to keep the High Council in line.

"It's all I can do from here," the Doctor said, walking past the High Council toward the exit as if none of them existed. The crackle of energy grew louder and, though his back was to the Master, he knew his intentions. He paused in his tracks but didn't look back. "You can take your revenge or you can come with me, there is no in between."

The Doctor continued on without waiting for an answer but the dimming of the Master's life energy was all the answer he needed. The Master caught up with him when he reached the stairs and they left the building together, heading back to the Doctor's TARDIS. When they reached the doors, the Doctor pulled out his key but paused just prior to unlocking it.

"If you're so sure you know what I'm about to do, is it what you really want?" the Doctor said, turning to look the Master in the eye.

The Master opened his mouth to speak, as if an answer came easily to him, but he hesitated, his open mouth closing into a frown. He thought for several seconds, all a Time Lord needed to imagine all other possible scenarios. He looked up at the Doctor, stared into his sad, blue eyes, and nodded once. The Doctor turned away from him and unlocked the TARDIS before walking in, leaving the door open for the Master, another choice for him to make.

He walked through to the console room and heard the door close just as he reached out to the controls. Timid footsteps echoed in the entry room as they approached. He looked up just as the Master peeked into the room, looking around at everything with a smirk on his face.

"What?" the Doctor said, turning his eyes back to the TARDIS controls.

"I remember this one. Pretentious as ever. I much prefer the one from your future," he said as he ambled over to the console.

"Well, when you have your own TARDIS you can design it as you like. Until then, I would refrain from insulting her for your own safety," the Doctor said, each word like an exasperated sigh.

"What are you going to do? Slap me?" the Master said with a light laugh.

"I'm not talking about me. She won't take too kindly to you." A smile crossed the Doctor's face for a moment. "I remember, not long after taking her, I got quite upset that she kept taking me to places I didn't want to go. I kicked and insulted her. She locked me out for two days while Susan tried to talk her down."

"Hmph," the Master said, watching him as he fell into the old memory. "Don't you have business to attend to?"

The Doctor's smile sagged and he nodded, flipping a lever that caused the TARDIS to dematerialize. He didn't fly her far, keeping her around the same time, just a few hours ahead. He flew until the TARDIS rested at a respectable distance but Gallifrey remained in sight. He brought up a feed of the planet on the closed-circuit screen as they two of them watched the approach of an army of TARDIS', the Dalek fleet hot on their tails.

All either of them could do was wait and watch until the time was right. They kept their eyes on the screen until they were sure no others would arrive. The Doctor could hardly stand to watch as the war started up again on his home planet, but he had to. He needed to sear into his mind and memory why he was about to commit an unforgivable action. There needed to be a reason so that he would go on living once the deed was done.

When the time arrived, they both knew it, but the Master had to give the Doctor a nudge in order to get him moving. The Doctor rose, appearing like the bereaved at a funeral, and started the control sequence, whispering to the TARDIS all the while.

"I'm sorry about this, old girl. I know it'll take a lot out of you," he said under his breath, though he knew the Master could still hear. "It's for a purpose. A just one…"

The TARDIS built up its energy, storing up everything it had to give, only for the Doctor. In this time, the Doctor turned to the Master, his expression lined and heavy with sorrow. He beckoned him forward and the Master seemed to hesitate, staring at him like he'd grown a second head, likely unsure of his intentions.

"What do you want?" he said, stealing a small step forward.

"To give a gift," the Doctor said, a smile gracing his face like the last flickering cinders of a dying flame. "The last act of kindness I have."

The Master frowned. "And what might that be?"

The Doctor approached him, sensing he was far too wary to go to him. They stood inches apart, the Doctor's bright blue eyes searching his for a sign of something. Change. Remorse. He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to see himself. He grabbed hold of the Master's hoodie with both hands, commanding his full attention.

"Do not squander this," he said seriously. "Do not take it for granted or throw it away because after this, after I hit the button, there will be no more Looming."

"Doctor?" the Master said, understanding dawning on him.

The Doctor moved a hand up to the Master's cheek, cradling it, seeing all of the lost possibilities in his young, hardened face. "I loved you."

He adapted an expression of shock as if the Doctor had struck him. "Loved?"

Before he could say more, the Doctor leaned in and kissed him softly, tenderly, and he could feel the years start to shed from his many potential futures. It passed between them, draining one and invigorating the other, taking the form of radiant light. When the Doctor opened his eyes, he could tell the Master looked stronger and his blonde hair had changed to a silky brown. He broke their contact, turning away from him as he felt a resounding emptiness that wasn't simply from the lost life.

After one last glance at his home, at those he loved and those he knew had to die, his finger found a button, flashing a bright red to tell him the TARDIS had stored all the energy it could. He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut so tight that no light could filter in, and, with a pained expression, the Doctor pushed it. He moved away from the console, turning his back on it, as the TARDIS shuddered and shook.

He walked, staggered, to the nearest armchair and sat down as all around him books and trinkets fell from the shelves. As if too heavy to keep up on his own, he dropped his head in his hands and rode out the shocks caused by his TARDIS creating a Time Lock around Gallifrey and the participants of the Time War. They would be doomed to live out the destruction they had chosen to cause on their own, never again touching the rest of the universe.

The ripples of power and energy lashed back, striking the side of the TARDIS facing Gallifrey, pushing her out further into space and sparks rained down on the console room. The Doctor could feel the Master watching him, but he couldn't bear to look up as his chest heaved and shoulders shook. Once the TARDIS stopped moving, lying in the stillness of the aftermath, the Doctor couldn't bring himself to move, feeling like he might crumble into dust and ash at the slightest disruption.

He heard footsteps approach him, felt hands as they touched the sides of his face. Without much effort, the Master pulled the Doctor to him and he buried his face into the Master's hoodie, distressed gasps muffled in the fabric. He fell into him with his whole weight, bringing them both to their knees on the TARDIS floor, the Doctor's arms around the Master's torso as the Master cradled the Doctor's head as one might with a child.

"Th-they're gone. All dead. I killed…" he cut off the sentence with a shaky gasp for air, his lungs unsated.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but you know as well as I that it had to be done," the Master said, his voice bearing no sympathy for the dead.

"It's so empty, Master. My head. It's so quiet," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"I feel it too."

The Master pulled the Doctor away from him, holding him so he could look at his face. The Doctor knew his cheeks looked tear-stained, eyes red, but he didn't much care. He felt weak, collapsible, as if the Master were the only thing holding him together. The Master pressed his forehead to the Doctor's and closed his eyes, one hand at the nape of the Doctor's neck. Just as the Doctor relaxed into the touch, the Master tightened his grip and slammed the Doctor's head as hard as he could into the arm of the chair behind him.

He watched as the Doctor's eyes fluttered closed and his body slumped against the chair before sliding down to the floor. All of the sadness left his face in the realm of unconsciousness, looking serene to the Master, in a better state of mind. He knelt over him and reached down, placing his fingertips to the Doctor's temples and entered his mind.

He navigated the corridors of his memories, looking for the right ones, the ones of the Doctor running into him in the prison, freeing him, bringing him along. The Master found them and he locked them away, burying them deep where the Doctor would never remember them. When he exited his thoughts, he looked back down at the Doctor's peaceful expression and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. He caressed his cheek before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his lips, careful not to wake him.

"I love you," he said, a truth the Doctor would never know.

After a moment of hesitation, the Master left the Doctor to lie there and took up the TARDIS controls, dematerializing her to a nearby market planet. He knew the last thing the Doctor needed was to travel with him, a reminder of a past gone forever, of a love that never had a chance to blossom. He would instead find his own way, using his mastery of hypnosis to hitch rides, find a purpose. All without the Doctor.

"You take care of him, you stupid ship," the Master said, hanging his head low as if he could hide his face from the TARDIS. "He needs you."

He set up the coordinates for the TARDIS to return to its previous position and glanced back at the Doctor's unconscious form before starting her up. He ran across the floor and exited the TARDIS doors, closing them back just before it disappeared, leaving him in the middle of an alien market square.

* * *

Hours later, or possibly days as far as he knew, the Doctor awoke, his eyes opening to a mess of a console room. He sat up stiffly, his joints disagreeing with lying on the floor for so long, as he assessed the damage. His head pounded, pulsing with pain that radiated through his whole body. At first, he didn't quite remember where he was or why, but when he looked up at the closed-circuit monitor, it hit him full force.

He killed his people. The Daleks and his whole race, wiped out. He didn't know if Romana made it out alive, he couldn't feel her in his head. He couldn't feel anyone. The silence and loneliness were overwhelming, his mind an empty, planet-sized stadium with only one occupant. Tears welled up and spilled over as he brought his knees up to his chest.

As he looked around the room, feeling a chill pass through, he thought maybe his time was up too. Maybe he could set the TARDIS to self-destruct and have them both go up in flames, ending the Time Lord race all together. He felt it was the fate he deserved. The consideration almost turned to solid action before the central column began to shift, indicating flight movement.

The Doctor stared, confused, at the console before climbing to his feet. He walked over, intending to check the coordinates, when she came to a stop and a creak of the front door echoed through the silent ship. He eyed the console and glanced toward the front doors before walking toward them with hesitant steps. Just outside, he saw a bath of green grass and trees and, upon closer inspection, he noticed that the tree trunks were moving slightly.

Out of curiosity, he stepped out, his boot causing a twig to snap. The sound reverberated and, at the sound, the tree trunks shifted, seeming to fragment, until hundreds of butterflies separated from them and took flight. The Doctor stared up at them with awe and wonder, his trouble vanished from his mind for a mere moment, but a moment long enough. He still had Earth, he realized. He still had a home left to protect. He leaned his back up against the TARDIS as he watched the swarm flutter up to the sky like a dark, beautiful cloud.

"Thank you, old girl."


End file.
